American Horror Story
by RachaelEwe
Summary: A tale about two teens struggling to come to grips with the traumatic events that surround them as they are forced to resume normal life beyond the prison. Carl / OC
1. Chapter 1: The Bad Beginning

Adrenaline, the fight or flight mode; our will to survive. I remember learning this in school and right now it's pumping through me as I run as far away from my past as I can. Freedom is a luxury and unless I keep moving I will become enslaved again. It's either run or die and I'm doing all I can to _live._ It's what she would have wanted me to do.

I see a lone biter up ahead and grip the knife in my fist tighter, my knuckles turning white. The biter glances up at me with wide, fearful eyes. I slow down to a stop taking in the woman who I had thought was dead. _She sure did look it._

"You can't go that way." I rush to tell her stopping a moment to watch as she picks scraps of meat off a dead deer and eats it raw. Knowing I need to keep going if I want to stay ahead of them. I start jogging again. I hear a faint voice call out for me to wait. "I don't have time!" I bark impatiently but stop anyway and turn back to face her. "Do you have a group?" She asks softly, stepping towards me. "Not anymore. Are you coming or not?" I snap as I feel panic rise within me, I need to go **_now_**.

"I have a small camp with water and shelter, you're welcome to come with me. It's just my husband and I." She offers generously, waving me over to follow her. Knowing I won't last long on my own taking the off chance that I may or may not find water tonight I decide to follow her.

We wonder through the forest in silence. I'm about to ask how much further to her camp when we stumble into a clearing with a tent in the center. As we pass the tent I peer inside and realize it's empty aside from a single blanket and pillow. "Where's your husband…?" I question, suddenly feeling uneasy about the new situation I've put myself into. As I look around more I realize she lives alone here.

"He's right over there." She points to a crate with a blanket draped over. "It's been just him and I for so long now. I wouldn't have ever been able to survive without him. Still, we are both so, so hungry but I give most of my food to him…"

The feeling of uneasy turns into fear as I step forward past the strange woman and tug off the blanket. Inside a decapitated zombie head, biting and growling looks up at me. I frown in disgust as the pungent smell of rotting flesh hits my nostrils.

"You said you had water here?" I ask, ready to help myself and leave. There's no way I'm spending the night here, this woman is obviously unstable carrying around her husbands head in a box.

"I don't have water." She confesses, her voice filled with sorrow as tears well up in her eyes. "We're so lonely out here, we just need company. Please," She begs, "Will you stay for dinner?" She asks desperately, pulling out a knife from her belt and clutching it with two shaking hands she lunges at me with the blade. I dodge the attack and tackle her to the ground where I wrestle the knife from her hand and press it against her throat glaring down at her with piercing green eyes.

"So you planned on feeding me to that _thing_ over there? You're one sick bitch." I growl pulling my knees together tighter around her waist as she struggles under my weight. She finally stops fighting and gives up, realizing she's too starved and weak to push me off her. She's sobbing uncontrollably saying how she wants me to kill her. "_Some of us don't get to come back from the things we've done_." She mumbles and her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Images of my mom flash through my mind and I struggle to push the pain aside and focus on what I need to do instead. "I don't think either of us has lived long enough to find out if that's true." I argue miserably. "_Kill me, please_." She begs looking up at me with tearful brown eyes. I pause letting her eyes burn into my soul before I do the humane thing and rip the knife across her throat.

* * *

Carl Grimes is keeping an eye on Herschel, his revolver extended as he scans the clearing for any signs of walkers. He finally got his gun back and his hands are itching to shoot. Herschel gathers elderberries off a nearby shrub, convinced the fruit will help fight the plague that's ravished their colony. Carl pivots on his heel as he hears the crunching of dead leaves coming closer. He rests his finger on the trigger and lines up his sight just as a figure leaps through the bushes. He shoots on instinct and realizes it wasn't a walker as his target cries out in pain and falls to the ground clutching her shoulder. All Carl can make out is a curtain of long brown hair as she presses her hand into her shoulder and examines her injury. She pulls back her hand that's now covered in blood and curses under her breath before placing it back over the open wound and looking up to meet his gaze. The look is frightened, like a wild animal being cornered by prey. Herschel comes to see what caused Carl to shoot, limping past him he rushes over to the injured female. "_Your kid shot me_!" She yells out at Herschel, her tone more stunned than angry. She attempts to stop the bleeding by ripping off a piece of her t-shirt but Herschel stops her. "No time, are you okay to walk?" He asks and the girl nods. He helps her to stand and calls out for Carl to help. "What are you doing?" Carl questions casting the elder a look as if he's lost his mind.

"We're not leaving her here, now help me get her back to the cell block." Herschel instructs and Carl reluctanctly obeys, grabbing the girl by her good wrist. "_Let go of me!_" She instantly protests, giving him a swift kick in the shin. Walkers begin to surround them, appearing from around nearby trees and bushes, Carl doesn't have time to fight the girl so he lets go of her arm and follows Herschel towards the prison leaving her behind as bate for the walkers. It isn't until they've reach the gate when he notices that she's still right behind him, clutching her shoulder she kicks a nearby walker in the chest before following the two men to safety.

* * *

My arm is searing with burning pain as the man named Herschel pours alcohol on my open wound. I hiss and bite down on the leather belt between my lips. I squint my eyes shut as he uses a scalpal to dig out the bullet. I scream out in pain and my instincts tell me to sit up. The boy my age pushes me back down on the cot and holds me still as the older man works on my shoulder. I look up at the tiles on the ceiling, forcing my mind to focus on something, anything other than the pain. He digs deeper sending a new wave of shock through my body and I reach out for something to grab. The boy catches my hand and I hold onto it tight, squeezing it until the pain becomes bearable again. Once the bullets out I let go and turn my head to the side watching as the man pulls thread through a needle and uses his teeth to tie it off. I look away as the boy presses a cold washcloth to my forehead wiping away the sweat pouring down my face. I'm drenched in a cold sweat as my body fights withstand the pain. The pinching of the needle stitching my shoulder together is annoying but tolerable. I take a deep breath, finally able to relax slightly now that the worst part is done with.

"_What's your name, if you don't mind me asking_?" The old man speaks from somewhere behind me. I exhale another breath and close my eyes, feeling exhaustion overcome me. "_Jodie_." I answer quietly. He helps me into a sitting position as he wraps my shoulder in bandage. The boy named Carl gets up to leave now that Herschel no longer needs his help keeping me still. I watch as he leaves the room without a word being said, no apology or proper introduction. He makes it clear I'm unwanted here.

"_I appreciate you cleaning me up_." I thank the old man. "_No trouble at all_." He replies steralizing and putting away his tools, I make a move to help him but he dismisses my attempt and instructs me to lay down and get some rest. "Tommorow we'll talk to the others and come to an agreement on what's expected of you if you wish to stay here."

I nod my head in acknowledgment and slip my good arm beneath my pillow getting comfortable and settled in for the night. Herschel drapes a blanket over me in a fatherly way before bidding me farewell. I feel safe enough to allow myself the luxury of sleep tonight and faintly wonder what tommorow brings.


	2. Chapter 2: We Don't Come Back From It

Golden sunlight filters through the vertical blinds of the faculty offices. Most of the children in the ward are awake, Herschel is off feeding the sick people elderberry tea and Carl is on patrol. The only one still asleep is their newest resident. Carl knocks loudly on the window that reads _Copy Room_. After a moment the door opens revealing the girl from the woods, rubbing sleep from her eyes and suppressing a yawn. "It's time to meet the council." He greets her. She nods and follows him in silence across the prison, passing the quarantine ward on the way, she stops momentarily peering through the cloudy glass window at all the infected. "They're going to die, someone should put them down." She frowns a pained look crossing her features. Carl feels anger rise within him at her statement, Glenn is sitting behind that door. "We're working on getting antibiotics, Herschel says it'll cure 'em." He informs her. She hears the anger in his tone and decides not to push the subject further. They reach the library where the council meeting is being held. Carl takes a seat next to his father and Rick gestures for Jodie to come in as she lingers behind in the threshold unsure of what to do. She takes a seat across from Rick and peers around the table at the only three council members present, Rick, Carol and Carl. Rick's voice penetrates the thick silence of the room, "First off, do you want to stay?" he begins. Jodie straightens her shoulders back and holds her head up a little higher meeting Ricks gaze evenly, "Yes I would." She answers clearly. "_Are there any objections_?" Ricks drawls, the words are hardly out his mouth when Carl turns to address the girl, "_Who were you running from yesterday_?" He asks, a suspicious gleam in his eye.

"_Biters_." Jodie answers calmly but Carl doesn't believe her and decides right then and there to make it a priority to figure out all of the secrets this girl's keeping from them. Rick looks between Jodie and Carl before decided to continue, "_How many walkers have you killed_?" He asks. "Too many to count." Jodie admits. "_How many people have you killed_?" He emphasizes the word 'people' and Jodie's gaze falters briefly as she looks down at her intertwined hands resting on the table, "_Just one_." She says. The room is thick as the council waits for an explanation, the last question out of Rick's mouth is "_Why_?" catching the girl off guard, she pauses "I was attacked… I fought back." She says simply.

Carl knows she's lying, obviously hiding some important details about her past. Jodie may have Carol fooled but not his dad. Rick's career revolved around catching people in all kinds of lies, Rick knew all the tell tale signs and had taught a few of them to Carl when he was younger. Jodie was _definitely_ dishonest, so when both Carol and Rick stood up to shake her hand, officially welcoming her into the group Carl was shocked to say the least. "_Dad." _Carl hisses just loud enough for his dad to hear as Jodie shakes Carol's hand. Carl gives his dad a look, a look that says 'how could you?'

"S_he doesn't seem dangerous Carl_" Rick places a reassuring hand on his sons shoulder,_ " but I want you to keep an eye on her_." Carl nods reluctantly, deciding to let the subject drop for the time being. Narrowing his eyes into slits, a chilling glare plastered to his face, he watches as his father shake the new girls hand.

"We each have a job to do here. " Rick's tone is fatherly, the way he tells Carl what to do. "Carol cooks and keeps an eye out on the lil ones and Carl and I tend the land but we have a sickness goin' 'roud here and it looks like I have other things that need tendin' to. Carl could use an extra hand out in the fields while I'm looking after thangs." Rick explains his southern accent strong, Jodie nods "_I'll do whatever I can to help." _She says.

* * *

I mark an '_X_' and smirk looking up at my opponent. "I win_ again_." I announce proudly. Lizzie goes to speak, probably about to call me a cheat but is stopped by a violent coughing fit. Wrinkling my face in a mix of disgust and concern I go to ask if she's alright but I'm interrupted by a set of loud footsteps approaching. I jump to my feet and immediately bombard him with questions, "How long do we have to stay in here?" I inquire as Carl passes by me, "And why do _you_ get to leave?" I add with annoyance in tone, it's not fair that I'm at least a year or two older than Carl and I'm being quarantined with a bunch of little kids. I suddenly take note of the fresh blood splattered across Carl's cheeks and shirt, the look on his face hardens as he wipes the sweat from his brow and turns to address me, "_I dunno, ask my dad_." He says shortly, stopping by the restroom door to catch his breath it's obvious he's been out fightin' biters all day. He slips into the public restroom and I follow behind him demanding more answers, "_What happened out there_?" I ask, my voice concerned. "Somebody's been feeding them." Carl says from his place at the sink, he scoops water out of the basin and splashes it against his face wiping away the dirt and blood. "Probably a child?" I theorize. "I dunno, maybe." He shrugs. There's a long pause as I think of how to properly voice the other questions swimming through my head. _ Why hasn't he apologized for shooting me? Why is he a council member, he's just a teenager? Why does he get to leave quarantine? When will I start farming like Rick said I would, it's been two whole days since the council meeting and the administration building is horribly stuffy, I need some air._

A coughing spell interrupts us as we both turn to face Lizzie coughing again into her sleeve as she enters the bathroom. She looks up at Carl with wide fearful eyes. "Please don't make me go." She pleads. "I'll go get Carol." He says coldly, pushing past both of us and leaving me alone with the sick child. I cast her a sympathetic look and hand her a piece of toilet paper that she blows into. "_Am I going to die_?" She asks gravely and I force a small smile, "They're out getting medicine as we speak so the odds are in your favor, try not to worry." I console her.

* * *

The next few days are a blur of anxiety, depression, and restless unease. My first week at the prison feels just like that,_ imprisonment_. My mind drifts to a dark place and I'm struggling to get a grip on it. Nightmares consume me each time I close my eyes, reliving the year of hell I went through before coming here. I think about her all the time, my mom, and I think about them, our captures and what they did to us. I wake up screaming again, my pulse racing and a layer of cold sweat on my skin. _It's okay. It's not real._ I remind myself but it _is_ real, and I'll never be able to escape from my past. Tonight I've had enough. Enough of the nightmares, enough of the guilt, enough of being locked away in these shitty offices. I need air, I need to clear my mind and tonight I don't care, nobody can stop me. I carefully get up and one handedly clutch my machete. My other arm in a sling, I don't know how much of a fight I can put up while injured but it doesn't stop my determination. _I'm getting out of here._

* * *

Carl was eager when his dad called on him for help down by the fence. They needed to get these poles set quickly to support the weight of the hundred or so walkers clawing against them. He worked as fast as he could and together Carl and his dad set up about 15 poles in less than 10 minutes. "Do you think they're alright?" Carl finally asks as they place the last pole, he's referring to Maggie and Herschel down in the sick ward. "Haven't heard anymore gunshots, I 'spose they got thangs covered." Rick replies just as a loud snap echoes through the night air followed by two more. Both men whip around just in time to see a large section of the fence give way and a hoard of walkers pour through. Carl barely has time to react, it all happens so fast. In a blur of adrenaline rush he pulls out his pistol and shoots the two walkers closest to him. "Dad!" He shouts out, as walkers push Rick to the ground. "Run!" Rick's shouts as he struggles to wrestles the walkers off him without getting bit. Suddenly a dark figure stabs the walkers on him in quick succession allowing Rick to finally get to his feet. "Jodie?" Rick asks in surprise. Yanking the teenager by her waist Rick leads the girl to safety. Carl holds open the door as they catch up and Rick locks the door behind them just as walkers claw at it from the other side. Carl looks over at Jodie, shock written on his face but having no time to ask questions.

Rick hands Carl an assault rifle and gives him what has to be the shortest lesson in history on how to use a firearm. Carl processes the instructions Rick gives him while tossing Jodie his pistol for her to use one handed. They form a line and begin firing as the walkers tear down the second fence. It's a blur of groaning, shuffling, blood and brains being blown out to bits and, _boom, boom, boom_ shot after shot the bullets ring out in each of their ears as they work together to take out the herd. They go through their first round of ammunition and Rick tells Carl to step back as they quickly reload. Rick gives his son one last look before shooting again, a mixture of emotions consuming him as he watches his son take down the walkers with ease. He doesn't have time to think about what exactly his son has become, how fast he's growing into a man, and what this world has done to his once innocent little boy. What would Lori say if she were still alive to see this? Would she be proud or devastated? Rick felt some of both himself.

Jodie ran out of ammo on Carl's pistol and is now left with just her knife for protection. She watches as each zombies head explode as Rick and Carl penetrate their skulls one by one. There's only a handful left when Jodie recognizes the two faces she never wanted to see again in her life, different now, rotting and undead but still so much the same as before. "**_Stop_**!" She calls out, rushing forward past the two men. She stands before the only two walkers left, looking into their hollow eyes as they shuffle towards her growling and snapping their teeth at her animalistically. Carl keeps his gun aimed and is about to shoot if Jodie lets them get any closer. She slams her knife into the eye socket of the male walker to her left, the female walker reaches out for her flesh as she stabs the male walker multiple times in the face, over and over in some sort of fit of rage.

Carl shoots the last walker and continues to watch as Jodie wreaks havoc on the walkers face, stabbing it to an unrecognizable pulp and screaming at the top of her lungs with each plunge of the knife. Rick rushes forward and rips the hysterical girl off the corpse gripping her shoulders tightly and shaking her as he yells at her to calm down. Jodie is sobbing now and all the fight in her seems to leave instantly as she collapses to the ground in a heap. Carl feels something churn within him as he instinctively steps forward and kneels down next to the distraught girl feeling suddenly protective. Jodie leans into his touch as he wraps his arms around her in a consoling gesture and she buries her head into the fabric of his flannel shirt. She can smell the herbs of the garden on him. Carl glances up at his father who asks 'Do you got her handled? I need to go check on Herschel and Maggie." Carl nods and watches him run off before he turns his attention back on Jodie still crying softly against his chest. His throat feels dry and he has no idea what to say so he just holds onto her and waits patiently for her to calm down, he looks around at the twitching limbs of the undead that lie around them, giving one last glance at the bloody mess that was once the head of the walker nearest to them. After a while her crying subsides into a few random sniffles. She keeps her face hidden in his shirt as she says, "_I never want to get up_." Her voice takes on an entirely new tone that Carl has never heard and he feels sympathy for the pathetic lump in his arms. She sounds as if she has lost everything and has given up entirely. "_Kill me_." She demands, finally looking up at him through bloodshot eyes, tears still glistening across her skin. "No." He says simply yet forcefully as he pulls them both up to stand she immediately shakes herself free of his grip just like the first day they met in the woods. "Kill me Carl!" She shouts angrily, shoving the knife into his hand. "I can't do this anymore." Jodie whimpers, her voice suddenly weak and defeated again. "_We don't get to come back from the things we've done_." Her words hit Carl like a ton of bricks and he's instantly reminded of his mother's death, of Sophia's death, of Shane's death. He doesn't want to think like that. He has to come back, he can't give in to the madness. Carl realizes in that moment that Jodie and him have something profound in common and he makes it his duty to help bring her back with him. Jodie is now Carl's responsibility. He grabs the girl roughly by her good arm, hoping the movement will shake her from her suicidal thoughts, and he takes her back inside the prison where he calls for Beth's help.

"Get her cleaned up, don't let her alone for a second." Carl instructs. Beth doesn't ask questions. She knows they each have a job to do and right now this is hers. Carl keeps an eye on Judith with Beth and Jodie head to the locker rooms. Beth turns on the shower and tells Jodie to wash off quickly since their water supply is limited. Nobody has the luxury to linger anyway, the freezing cold showers are usually unpleasant enough in nature to make people hurry through it. Beth asks if Jodie needs help with her shirt, noticing her injured shoulder. Jodie is unresponsive to Beth's polite and helpful ways and walks into the shower stall fully clothed and stands beneath the faucet. She closes her eyes and begins to shiver as the freezing water drops her core temperature. She wonders what her life has become, she wonders what she has left to live for and what her purpose on this earth is. In her darkest hour tonight she begged for death to greet her with its sweet kiss, she has never begged for anything in her entire life. Jodie's always been strong, until now. She wants to see her mom again, and her dad and the rest of her family that's probably wondering this cold earth reborn again as biters. Jodie wants true freedom, to be free of this living hell.

Beth recognizes the sorrow and hopelessness emitting from the other teenager. She's been there, she's wanted to die too. Although Beth doesn't know a single page of Jodie's story, she knows what she's feeling. Beth shuts off the shower and wraps a towel around the girl's slumped shoulders. "I don't know what happened out there…" Beth begins softly brushing the wet bangs from the other girls face. "But I've learned that giving up isn't the answer."

By the time the girls are back, Carl is too exhausted to shower and decides to go straight to bed. He knows he cannot leave Jodie alone until she's more emotionally stable and Beth is busy tending to Judith. The other children are too young to babysit a suicidal wild card, so Carl's only other option is for him to watch over the girl for the time being. He moves his cot to the Copy Room. He stares at Jodie's back, she's wearing one of his old t-shirts that he's outgrown. Beth told him how she soaked hers. He watches her breathing until it becomes slow and steady, which takes what feels like an hour. Carl's sure she's asleep and finally closes his own eyes to rest. He wonders about Jodie's past and if she will ever share it with him before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

_**AN: link to pictures of my OC are in my profile. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3: Recovery

Knees to her chest Jodie sits curled up in a ball gazing out through the vertical blinds. The forest surrounding the prison is engulfed in fiery autumn leaves. The view is scenic if you look past the barbed wire fencing and stray biters. Jodie's mood hasn't changed much since last weeks incident. The only thing uplifting to her is the thought of bluggering _his_ face in. She'd love to go psycho on _her _corpse as well to release the fury still coursing through her veins but it's too late they've burned all bodies.

Rick had a talk with Jodie the day after her mental breakdown. He was overall sympathetic and didn't press her to open up to him about the reason behind her attack he just said that until she was more stable Carl was going to look after her.

Beth comes at her usual time around noon to bring Jodie lunch with Judith perched against her hip. Jodie has grown fond of the pair, the adorable baby distracts her from the darkness slowly consuming her and Beth's pleasant mood is uplifting. Carl leaves from his spot at the doorway silently kissing Judith on the forehead before wondering off. The infant sits and plays with some plastic cups on the floor while Beth hands Jodie her meal and sits across from her on the bed. Jodie eats quietly, and Beth watches feeling a sense of triumph at the fact that she no longer has to beg the girl to eat. The only sound is the incoherent babbling of Judith as she plays and the occasional clanking of the spoon against Jodie's bowl as she eats her stew.

Carl comes back a few hours later to find Jodie and Judith curled up on his cot holding a book marked '_Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone'._ Jodie stopped reading aloud to the infant an hour ago when she conked out on her lap. Beth gets up from her spot on the floor setting aside her book labeled '_The Great Gatsby_' and meets Carl just outside in the hallway. "You're sister's good for her, Judith's the only one who got her to smile since she got here. She ate her lunch today without me nagging her about it too." Beth relays excitedly. Inwardly Carl is pleased with the girl's progress and feels as if a small weight has been lifted from him. He hopes soon she will recover completely and he can resume his place doing fieldwork with his father outside.

Beth and Judith head back to their room down the hall. Carl collapses, sprawled out on his cot and begins to mentally unwind before going to bed. After about 15 minutes he hears a soft _thunk _as Jodie sets down her rather large book and turns to face him.

"_I want to go outside_." She begins calmly. She plays with a piece of thread on her shirt with her good hand, a nervous habit.

"I don't think you're ready yet." Carl answers, earning him an annoyed glare in return.

"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be locked away like an animal in here. _I'm not mad_, I killed two walkers a little too enthusiastically… I don't see the big deal-" "_You went nuts_, we don't know enough about you to just let this go. You could be _dangerous_, unstable." Carl argues.

The girl lets out a sad sigh, "What can I do to fix this?" she asks, her voice pleading.

"You can help us understand." Carl replies. "Who were they?"

Jodie looks away and a thick silence overcomes the two of them. Finally Jodie sighs again, "_Don't make me do this…_" She whispers, feeling unshed tears burning against her eyes, she holds back as her body begins to tremble, losing control. She doesn't want to cry again not in front of Carl, not in front of anyone.

"How can we trust you when we don't know anything about you." Carl hisses growing impatient and feeling frustrated with his roommate. Jodie rolls over and buries herself beneath the blanket making it clear that this conversation has ended. Carl let's out an angry huff of breath before turning away from her and clenching his eyes shut willing sleep to overcome him quickly.

* * *

I feel a tiny fingertips brush against my face. I smirk knowing who it is and feign sleep a few seconds longer before abrubtly opening my eyes and saying '_Boo_!' in a goofy voice. Judith giggles an excited grin exposing her only two bottom teeth. She swipes at the older girls face again as she shuts her eyes once more before going '_Boo_!' again causing the infant to squeal in glee. "Brought you some eggs." Beth greets her handing over a small plate. Jodie sits up and begins to eat while Beth takes over playing peek-a-boo with Judith on the floor. "She's really taking a liking to you." Beth casts Jodie a small smile. Jodie looks down at the baby a warm feeling swelling inside her and a contagious grin on her lips. "She's my lil buddy." Jodie says, ruffling the small amount of hair on the infants head. "I had a cousin her age…" Jodie confesses after a while. Beth looks over at the girl curiously as she offers up a page of her story. "His name was Riley. Her smiles are just like his… I s'pose all babies are alike that way…" Jodie trails, turning her gaze back on the child now hitting a wooden spoon against a cup and smiling each time it makes a noise.

Later that day when Beth brings Jodie her dinner she tells her some exciting news. "The others are back with medicine, my daddy's giving it to the sick people right now. They're going to be okay." Beth smiles in relief. Jodie immeidiately thinks of Lizzie, the girl she played tic- tac –tow with during her few days at the prison. "_That's great_." Jodie replies genuinely thankful. "Things are lookin' up around here." Beth adds cheerfully bouncing Judith on her lap.

* * *

Carl picks a strand of green beans from the garden. Rick shows him how to peel back the outer pod and get to the beans inside. Carl leans his head back and tilts the pod against his lips letting the three small beans fall into his mouth. He takes in the gritty crunchy taste of the beans raw and decides they're decent uncooked. Rick and Carl continue to pick a few more before dusk falls and they have to go back inside.

"How's the girl doin', Jodie?" Rick asks finally breaking the comfortable silence between his son and him. "Beth said she's eatin' and playin' with Judith. We talked last night, I tried to get some answers but she's being stubborn. I'm guessing whoever those walkers were they did something bad to her." Carl squints over at his dad as the glow of the sunset descends upon them. Carl wished Jodie would open up to him, to _anybody_ so they could understand the type of person they were dealing with. Part of him wanted to feel sympathy and part of him wanted to be weary of her.

"Keep tryin' to get her to talk... In the meantime I need you and Jodie to work out here, tend the garden, feed the livestock. I got thangs to sort out with the council." Rick says.

Carl nods as his father and him head back into Cell Block C for dinner.

* * *

Lizzie sits across from Jodie. Jodie and Lizzie are playing a game of checkers in which the elder female is winning. With each piece of Lizzie's she takes the younger girl grows more frustrated. "You keep beating me. You're cheatin'." The blonde frowns. Jodie looks over at her with amusement painted on her lips, "_Not cheating_, just gotta secret to winning… My dad taught me, we'd play this a lot when I was your age." Jodie smiles softly in her fathers memory.

"What is it?" Lizzie quickly asks.

"_If I told ya then it wouldn't be a secret now would it_?" Jodie muses as she captures another red piece and crowns her black piece queen.

"_I have secrets too you know_." Lizzie whispers meeting Jodie's gaze evenly. The dark gleam behind the child's brown eyes doesn't sit well with the seventeen year old. _There's something off about that girl…_


	4. Chapter 4: American Horror Story

Behind the cabin walls lies a house of horrors. Locked inside the basement are a mother and daughter. The elder of the two females lies naked on a soiled mattress stained with semen and blood. The girl hugs her mother close to her chest wailing and screaming, releasing the sorrow cascading through her being. "_Don't you fucking die on me_!" Her jade eyes squeeze shut as she rocks back and forth on her knees clutching the limp weight of her mother. Jodie presses her ear above her mom's breast, the skin is cold and clammy against her skin. She tries to stop sobbing long enough to try to listen for the heartbeat she heard as an infant. That same pulse was the first noise she'd ever heard as a baby in her mother's womb 17 years ago. It's soothing rhythm unheard now, gone and vanished from Jodie's memory. She'd give anything to hear that dull _thump, thump, thump_ again right now but all she hears is her own sniffling.

"_God, you're dead mom, you're fucking dead_." She sobs, her salty tears itching, forming a river down her cheeks. She knows what happens next, she's seen it all before. Her mom would turn into a biter unless she pierced her skull. Jodie bangs upon the cellar door, signaling to her captives that she is in distress. She screams so long she begins to lose her voice as her throat turns raw. The door swings open and a husky, short female with her hair in a lose, low bun and not an ounce of makeup on her ugly, pudgy face descends the steps with a shotgun in hand. "_Don't you do it. Don't you shoot her_!" Jodie cries, lunging towards the woman and attempting to wrestle free the firearm from her grip but she's strong, their strength is evenly matched. Both women hold onto the gun and tug it back and forth between them. The fat one screams out "_Ted! Help Ted, she's got me_!" and in an instant her husband is by her side coming down the steps to see what all the ruckus is about. "Will you two shut the hell up, ya wanna draw them deadies here?" He bellows ripping Jodie from his wife and throwing her to the ground "You sit your ass down little lady or I'll give ya a lashin' ya hear?" He growls before stopping to cough violently into his arm. Jodie gets right back on her feet and uses his distraction to make another attempt at grabbing the gun. "_Let me be the one to do it, she's my mom. Let me do it, please I'm begging you_!" She cries out.

"No way you're getting 'hold of my gun, now sit down before I make ya!" The man yells slapping the girl hard across the cheek as he recovers quickly. Jodie stumbles into the wall with the force of the impact and glares up at the devil standing before her wanting to rip his throat out and knowing if she could just get close enough to him she would kill him with her bare hands. The adrenaline courses throughout her petite body, she's never felt so _feral_.

A familiar growling noise gains both their attention as her mom's body rises from the dead and claws at the fresh meat closest to her, sweet old Mildred. The biter takes a hunk out of the wife's arm earning a shriek from of the woman as she drops her weapon and tries to pry the biter from her. Jodie and the old man simultaneously rush forward to claim the shotgun on the floor. Ted gets to it first and swiftly kicks Jodie back into the wall as he aims down his site and sends a bullet straight through her mother's skull. He turns to his screaming spouse and sends a second bullet through her temple silencing her wails.

Jodie feels numbness overtake her body. Her ears ring from the piercing echo of gunfire in such a confined space. She feels something cool on her temple and lifts her gaze from the crimson blood forming an ever growing puddle around her moms head to the monster hovering above her pressing the barrel of the shotgun to her face. "Pick em up, Millie first." He orders. Jodie doesn't move as she tries to process his words. Her mind isn't functioning right, it feels fuzzy and all she can concentrate on is the blood. God there's so much of it and the faint ringing coming from deep within her skull. The barrel presses harder into her skin cocking her head to the side with its pressure. "Now's not the time to play deaf. I'll shoot yer fucking brains out right now don't think fer a second I'm foolin'." A voice above her speaks out again and Jodie slowly rises to her feet and picks up Mildred from under her sweaty armpits and carries the pig outside where she's forced to dig Mildred's grave.

* * *

My eyes flick open and raw morning sunlight invades my vision. Carl's old t-shirt that I've claimed is drenched in sweat. I feel my breathing begin to settle as I sit up and take in my surroundings. Carl enters the room, "_Get up, we're farming_." He barks before noticing that I'm already up. His blue blue eyes scan over my appearance and he frowns slightly. "_You alright_?" He asks a bit softer this time. "_Fine_." I cut him off curtly, getting up to change into my day clothes. He leaves the room as I rip off the damp t-shirt and slip on a loose tank top in its place. I shimmy on a pair of cut off jean shorts over my hips and slip on my riding boots. When I meet Carl outside in the corridor he wordlessly hands over my machete. I look down at my knife and take it, my knuckles brushing against his. I feel better knowing I have my weapon back and I'm relieved Rick trusts me enough to let his son return it to me.

Once outside the prison I grab a stack of hay and begin to feed the horses while Carl collects chicken eggs in the coop. The last horse I feed nuzzles its nose into my outstretched palm affectionately. I smile softly as I scratch her face in return. "That's Maybelle, she's a cuddler." Carl chuckles setting down his bucket of brown and white eggs and stepping closer to greet his friend. I step aside and watches the two interact, I'm suddenly reminded of my kitten Binx in the world before, a gray and white calico.

"Do the others have a name?" I ask attempting to make friendly conversation so as to appear _normal_. I still have to redeem myself. These people think I'm a maniac.

"Nah." Carl shakes his head as he squints over at me, the sun shining right into his eyes from somewhere behind my back. "My dad doesn't like me naming them."

"What he don't know won't hurt him." I smile mischievously as I move down the line of horses. "I say this gal looks like a _Violet_ to me." I state brushing my fingertips against her ebony fur. _It feels like silk._

Carl gives a teasing grin and I realize he's helping me to let go of reality and succumb to fantasy for a while. Escape to a past world where we're just two carefree teenagers having some fun naming broncos in a field.

"Alright, I can keep a secret." He smirks pointing to the chestnut stallion next to Violet. "_Jack_" He declares.

"_What about him_?" I point to the last horse, a white one. "_Dumbledore_?" I joke.

"Dumb door?" Carl wrinkles his face in confusion.

"_Dum-ble-dore_" I drawl out slowly, "The headmaster at Hogwarts. Do you know nothing you daft muggle?" I ask in astonishment adding a playful posh accent. When Carl continues to look at me as if I've gone off my rocker again I enlighten him, "_Harry Potter_, that book I'm reading that looks like an encyclopedia." I clarify with a laugh.

"Never read it." Carl answers honestly but I'm sure he wishes he did,

"_But Dumb Door it is_." He smirks as I throw a clumpful of hay at his face and he easily dodges it.

"When ya'll are done goofin' off lunch is ready." A soft voice calls. Beth sets Judith on the grass who's twisting a blade of grass between her little fingers entranced by the new discovery. I pluck a nearby dandelion and place the yellow weed behind her ear. "Princess Judith!" I announce giving a mock bow to the now royal infant. This causes her face to light up. "Bow for the queen." Carl plays along, bowing with me, and Beth quickly catches on following suit. Judith giggles and squeals at her goofy brother. Carl sweeps up his baby sister and carries her into Cell Block C where we all gather for lunch.

I look around at the 15 or so circular cafeteria tables seated with people, most of whom I don't know the names of. The group looks even larger now that the sick have been accepted back into the population. I notice Maggie, Beth's older sister who I briefly met once, preparing a young man a bowl of stew. She pushes back a strand of jet-black hair that's fallen into his face. I don't miss the loving look the woman gives him. "That's Glenn." Beth seems to read my curious gaze. "You haven't had a chance to meet all the council?" she asks in between bites. "Not yet, most of them were off getting medicine when I got here. I only met Rick and Carol…" I trail glancing around the open room. "Where is she anyway?" I add noticing her absence. Beth looks across the table at her dad giving him a sad look that says '_you explain, I can't_'.

"Rick discovered that Carol had been behind the murders of a few of our own men and women inside the prison. She admitted to killing them because they were sick. She showed no remorse in what she had done so Rick did what was best for the group and let her go." Herschel explains his voice laced with pain, the loss still fresh. I assume Carol and him were close friends. "_I'm sorry_." I reply, not knowing what else to say. I'm never good at these things. My mother was always the comforting type, she always knew the best things to say to make you feel better. The old man gives me a soft smile from somewhere behind his Santa Clause beard. "_Eat up before your stew gets cold_." He dismisses the subject. I spoon the soup into my mouth and before I know it my eyes are roaming the room again, this time landing on a familiar face but he was already staring back at me and our eyes lock _emerald against sapphire_. Carl's expression is unreadable, a poker face of sorts almost as if he's analyzing me in an interrogation room searching for some subtle sign to give me away. _Sheriff meet criminal_. I give him a polite nod before looking back down at my food. I decide to keep my eyes to myself for the remainder of the meal.


	5. Chapter 5: Saving Judith

I wish I got a chance to enjoy my time at prison longer. Things were just starting to feel comfortable, safe even. We went to war with a rival group on day 16. They were larger than us and we had the disadvantage of half sick people who were useless in battle. Not to mention the bastards had a tank.

A lot of blood was shed and we each fought hard to keep what was ours, our _sanctuary_ but in our struggle to fight off our enemies we destroyed not only one another but our home as well. The Prison was demolished, left a crumbling ruin and the remaining survivors fled in all directions. That's how it ended up being just Judith and me that first night. Me, a temporary cripple and a baby, things looked grim. I wonder now if I'll ever see Beth again, Rick or Carl… I wonder if they're even still alive.

Judith was abandoned in her little gray and lilac car seat, alone in a sea of biters shuffling towards her. I couldn't pick her up and kill the biter simultaneously and my gun was out of ammunition. It was out of pure instinct as I was scrambling to get her unbuckled the biter got too close and I turned around and ripped his throat clean out. My free hand was covered in rotting, stinking, thick biter blood but I didn't give two shits, in fact I hardly noticed. The same adrenaline I felt the night my mother died coursing through my body, _I was invincible. I was feral_.

I scooped Judith up into my free arm and ran as far and as fast as I could out of harms way into the surrounding forest. At first it was just me and this tiny human being I was now solely responsible for. We had nothing but my knife and the clothes on our backs. That first night in the woods I've never felt so hopelessly maternal. I didn't know how in the hell I was going to feed this infant let alone myself. I was still healing from my gunshot wound and the zombie apocalypse is no place for a baby. She cried in the darkness, she was hungry but I couldn't feed her we had no food and I had nothing to hunt with. All I could do was hold her tightly keeping her little body as warm as I could and eventually we both fell asleep in the safety of a willow tree. I told myself '_I'd figure it out in the morning, I'd find a way'_ but deep down I knew we were both going to die out there in the woods. We didn't stand a chance. That's when Michonne found us. Michonne was our savior. She discovered us the next evening and it was now the three of us, and our opportunity to survive increased dramatically. I could tell Michonne cared deeply for Judith. We were damn good mama bears and we would do whatever it took to keep our little cub safe.

So here we are, now 28 sunrises into this new life as survivors on the run. Judith watches with big curious eyes as I work on opening a can of pineapple we found raiding the most recent house. I offer her the first piece of tangy fruit and she scrunches her face up and puckers her lips as she chews. "Nuh" She shakes her head back and forth with vigor like a wet dog. I frown looking over to Michonne for help, after all she's in charge. "_She has to eat_." The ebony woman states, her voice soft yet authoritative. "_I know_. She's just so picky." I reply, offering another piece but getting a mouth clamped shut in response. "_Come on hun you gotta eat so you can grow big and strong_." I bribe eating a piece for myself and smiling enthusiastically. _It really is delicious, no acting needed. _

"See its good, num num!" I grin offering another piece, this time she opens her mouth and lets me feed her more but puckers and makes distressed faces with each bite. _But at least she's eating. _My stomach rumbles loudly and it burns terribly feeling hallow, a sensation that has become so normal I hardly notice the hunger pangs anymore unless they're violent.

"You need to eat, I'll feed her. We have a few cans of tuna left in my bag help yourself." Michonne insists. As I leave the room and venture into the adjoining kitchen I hear her add, "We need to take care of ourselves if we want to be around for her" She's right and I know it but I feel guilty as if any food I allow myself to eat is food being taken away from the baby. What if this is all that we have to last us another week? What will Judith eat? It's this sort of anxiety, '_I_ _wonder what the future has in store for us.'_ that puts my nerves endlessly on edge. Nowhere is safe like the prison, so we move along not knowing which meal will be our last.

* * *

"_Don't look back Carl, don't look back_"

Rick and Carl head for the road, following its windy path until they come across an RV a few days in and easily take out the two walkers inside. Rick moves from town to town ransacking suburbs not sure himself what it is he's searching for. _Another group? Survivors from the prison?_ Weeks pass and they don't encounter another living being, just walkers, just _death. _

Carl's silence doesn't go unnoticed by Rick. He tries to talk to his son here and there but the chatter between the two dwindles as they each bury deep within themselves. It's been a few weeks and Rick begins to hallucinate again. He see's Lori on the side of the road one night, clutching their daughter. He stops the RV but when he swings open the camper door they've vanished into the night. The teenager is becoming unhinged as well, nightmares consuming him. Carl feels numb and hallow, like a cold shell. He exists, but just _barely_. He's sinking into a relentless cycle of misery and madness. He hears his baby sisters laugh, he sees her chubby face, he hears her cry. He feels his mom hugging him in his sleep one night and she whispers in his ear "_Be strong baby, be strong_."

Carl waits in the RV, watching his dad siphons gas from an abandoned Chevy Malibu parked in the driveway of a once cozy townhouse. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a thin trail of smoke coming from the chimney. Quickly opening the passenger door Carl steps down onto the road his sapphire eyes locked on those soft gray wisps leading to heaven. "_Dad_." He hisses not moving his gaze, afraid the sign of life will disappear from view. _He's afraid he's imagining it_. Rick looks up at Carl and then follows his gaze looking to the sky and seeing exactly what he sees, _life_.

* * *

I'm sitting by the fireplace warming my hands Jude snuggled up in my lap napping. We hear footsteps on the porch the house is still except for the soft crackling of the fire. Michonne gets up instantly sword in hand as she cautiously stalks to the door peering through the brass peephole. "_I can't believe it_." She says her voice laced with astonishment. I glance over at her, my pulse rising in fear. The crimson door creaks opens and for a moment I don't believe who I'm looking at, Rick and Carl in the threshold. Carl hugs Michonne nearly knocking her over. She hugs the teenager tightly looking up at Rick her eyes watering with unshed tears. "_You're alive_." Rick gasps stepping through the doorway, they each embrace each other as Rick asks, "Are there others?" I pick up Judith but don't move, my feet feeling as if they're made of lead. _I'm paralyzed_. "Carl" I whisper. The two men are made aware of my presence as I happily hold out Judith for her father to take. Rick grabs his baby girl and the sheriff begins to sob uncontrollably. Tears stream down Carl's face too, realization hitting him hard, _Judith is alive. _The Grimes family clings to each other for a while. The reunion is heart wrenchingly beautiful.

Finally Carl breaks free from his family and looks over at me stepping closer until we're a foot apart and he wraps his arms around me. "It's great to see you again." He smiles into my ear. "You too." I breathe, releasing the breath I hadn't noticed I'd been holding in.

That night feels like Christmas, I am thankful Judith is returned to her family and the men are back with us. I wonder how many more people have survived battle and if we'll ever be reunited.

"So what's our plan?" Michonne breaks the silence as we gather around the fireplace. I watch as Rick stares into the fire the flames dancing in his eyes as he thinks things through.

"Macon, that's where Glenn's from. He might be headed there." Rick theorizes where he thinks the bus of survivors would go. "It's worth a shot." Michonne agrees. "Have you gone through the block?" Rick asks. "Yeah Michonne and I were talking about leaving tomorrow, lucky you guys got here when you did. We weren't even sure if we'd stay the night." I reply honestly. Rick nods realizing fully that it was a real miracle he found his daughter. "Then there's nothing left here for us, we'll move on tomorrow." Rick decides.

* * *

I slide into the driver's seat of the sleek black Audi I found next door. Michonne had to manually lift up the garage door for me to get it out but it was well worth the effort. The car had half a tank of gas and it was _fast_. The heated seats and CD collection just an added bonus.

"No way I'm lettin' you drive, nice try." Michonne smirks leaning against the hood of the car. "_Come on_, I'm seventeen I should have my license by now." I point out, reluctant to give up my shiny new toy. "_But you don't_, now move." Michonne counters. I get out and the older female gets in.

"Can we listen to a few songs on the way?" I ask hopefully, music is a luxury and one that hasn't graced any of our ears in years. I take shotgun and Carl slips into the backseat. Rick and Judith take the RV.

"Only if you play something _good_." She says shifting the car into drive. I shuffle through the disks but they all appear to be blank burned CD's except for the vague words written in blue ink. '_Party Mix'_, '_TGIF_', '_Sexytime_', '_TLC_' I read the titles marking the first 4 disks. Michonne points to the last one. "_This is what I'm talking about. This right here."_ She says getting lost in the sweet memories the melody gives to her as the song begins.

_'__A lonely mother gazing out of the window  
Staring at her son that she just can't touch  
If at any time he's in a jam, she'll be by his side  
But he doesn't realize he hurts her so much_

_But all the praying just ain't helping at all  
'Cause he can't seem to keep his self out of trouble  
So he goes out and he makes his money the best way he knows how  
Another body layin' cold in the gutter_

_Listen to me_

_Don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers  
And the lakes that you're used to  
I know that you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all  
But I think you're moving too fast'_

Carl has the next pick and lean back to hand him the stack of disks as I look out the window. The trees are beginning to shed their leaves as winter descends upon the land_. _Crunchy dead brown leaves litter the road and dance away in the breeze we create as we pass by_. It feels like November_. Carl hands back to me '_Summertime Rock n' Roll'_ and _Lynyrd Skynyrd- "Free Bird"_ echoes through the car.

_'If I leave here tomorrow  
Would you still remember me?  
For I must be traveling on, now,  
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.  
But, if I stayed here with you, girl,  
Things just couldn't be the same.  
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,  
And this bird you cannot change.  
Oh... oh... oh... oh... oh...  
And the bird you cannot change.  
And this bird you cannot change.  
Lord knows I can't change.'_

It's my turn and one title sparks my interest as my heart sinks. '_Fleetwood Mac' _I read it over and over again knowing I shouldn't play it but I do it anyway the temptation too strong. I slip in the disk and wait for the pang of hurt to hit my chest as I'm reminded so much of my mother. We loved Fleetwood Mac, their songs were our anthem.

_'Took this love and I took it down._

_Climbed a mountain and I turned around. _

_And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down._

_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_

_Can the child within my heart rise above?_

_And can I sail through the changing ocean tides?_

_Can I handle the seasons of my life?_

_Oh oh, I don't know, oh I don't know._

_Well I've been afraid of changing cause I've built my life around you._

_But time makes you bolder._

_Children get older I'm getting older too._

_Yes, I'm getting older too…-'_

The song comes to an abrupt stop as I press the eject button and the CD spits back out. I feel a tear slide down my cheek and roughly wipe it away angry that I'm so openly weak. Angry that I'm still consumed with grief and it hurts just as much as the day I lost her. They say time heals all wounds but I don't think I'll ever come back from this. It's too difficult struggling to make it in this harsh world completely and utterly alone. I have nothing to live for, no family to risk my life for, no hope. _I'm just existing, barely existing_.

Michonne looks over at me her espresso brown eyes darting away from the road for only a second to observe me. I don't know if she knows but if she does she doesn't point it out. She suggests we listen to the radio, she suddenly remembers hearing a voice when she was on the medicine run, she had almost forgotten it. At first static fills the car as we scan through the blank stations but suddenly a scratchy male voice breaks through and we all try to decipher what he's saying. It's difficult to make out, the white noise coming in and out but we each clearly hear one word. "Macon" We agree, we all heard Macon.


	6. Chapter 6: The Sanctuary

**A/N: Macon in this fanfic is not meant to be a direct reference to the Walking Dead video game. Just wanted to clear that up. Sorry for the confusion, carry on.**

* * *

I clutch my bare knees to my chest rubbing my palms up and down my calves in an attempt to stay warm. The temperature has dropped dramatically and none of us are dressed for it. Carl takes off his flannel shirt and bundles it tight around his baby sister leaving his arms exposed in a t-shirt. We are making a pit stop at a local thrift store for winter wear. Low, buzzing stactic fills the car as we sit in silence. We've had the radio on 96.7 for three hours trying to catch more of the voice pointing us to Macon. Suddenly we hear something break through but it's too mumbled to make out. Both Carl and I lunge forward at the same time to turn the dial our shoulders meeting in the middle between the front seats. His fingers reach it first as he cranks it up. Static crackling interrupt the mans words but we make out "Sanctuary…Survivors…College." Before it fades out once more.

"What was the last word?" Carl turns to me.

"College I think…Macon College?" I answer. "But that'd be impossible, too many biters to clear out. There's no way they have the entire campus cleared." I add remembering the herd that hit the prison, a college would have at least double, no _triple_ those numbers.

"It's do-able we did it, cleared the whole prison." Carl replies just as Rick and Michonne exit Goodwill, stuffed duffel bags in each hand. They enter the car and we quickly fill them in, Sanctuary-Survivors-College.

"A college?" Michonne's tone is disbelieving. Rick on the other hand seems to buy into it,

"It would have _food_ and the dorms could be used like the cells to separate people. Could be safe if it has a fence." says Rick but it's obvious Michonne isn't convinced.

"We went to a vet school and almost lost Tyrese. You have no idea the number of walkers we're talking about here, _hundreds Rick_. _It's just not possible_." Michonne presses.

The space is still as our two leaders take a long moment to weigh the risk. Is it worth the possibility of running straight into the biggest herd any of us have ever seen?

"The others could be there. Maybe this man has food…shelter…numbers_. _Maybe it's_ safe._" Rick doesn't seem to be backing down anytime soon. Michonne closes her eyes and rubs her thumb in small circles against her temple. "Let's go." She sighs.

The Grimes take the audi with heated seats and Michonne and I take the RV a non functioning heat unit. Once the men are gone I strip off my clothes and slip on a pair of old, ripped jeans and an oversized pine green flannel shirt that smells like wood chips. I add a worn in leather jacket and a knitted black scarf before slipping on a gray beanie over my head making sure to cover my ears for warmth. I add a pair of wool-lined utility gloves for good measure. Michonne adds a few layers too, slipping on an 'Atlanta Falcons' hoodie and then a black wool peacoat.

Dusk sets over west Georgia as we reach the county line of Macon. We pass through each intersection looking for any signs that would point us to the university. Instead we see a series of spray painted red arrows and Rick decides to follow it off the main road and into the back streets. We ascend a curving, winding hill with willow trees neatly aligned on each side.

My jade eyes lock on a massive brick building atop hills peak, surrounded entirely by a tall, black cast iron fence. We idle at the gates and wait for any sign of life. I watch as Rick gets out of the car and walks towards an abandoned security booth, peering inside. As he pulls back two men with guns meet him on the other side of the fence. They exchange words before Rick goes back into the car and the men disappear for a moment as they open the gates for us.

Rick holds his daughter close to his chest, his free hand resting against the pistol on his hip. Carl does the same. We walk up a long brick sidewalk until we reach the college steps and the front doors unlock electronically with an audiable 'click' letting us inside. We gather in the administration area of the school where students once badged in and registered for classes. Now it seems to be a makeshift security checkpoint as more men and a women with guns approach us.

"Welcome survivors." The female steps forward to introduce herself as Rebecca. Her auburn hair is pulled into a low tight bun and she's wearing green camo and combat boots. My mind reads _Army brat_. She offers up a small, polite smile.

"Do you seek food and shelter here?" She confirms.

Rick and Michonne exchange a glance before Michonne gives a silent nod, her features cold and stoic. Clearly her guards up.

"How many are here?" Rick asks, getting straight to business.

"A few hundred. It was just a few of us in the beginning, more came after Paul put out the radio broadcasts. As we grew in numbers we became more evolved. We have solar energy panels on the roof, a couple acres of crops, a basic water filtration system and protection, as you can see." She motions to the gun in her hand.

"Paul is the Dean, he runs the political aspect of the Sanctuary and the new education system we put into effect about six months ago. You're welcome to stay here. One rule no violence. Kill and be killed, got it?" Rebecca wraps up her speech and awaits our reaction.

Rick's the first to speak, "We lost some of our own, a bus full of people. Have they come here?" He asks.

"We had a bus come a month ago, could be your friends. So you'll be staying?" She confirms.

"If you'll let us. We'll pull our own weight. Whatever you need." Rick insists.

"The children will attend school. Adults will be required to sign up on the Work List. There's a nursery for the baby to go to while you complete your shift. Get settled in tonight and come back here and see me tommorow." Rebecca explains before she disappears into a nearby office and comes back with two metal keys marked 206 and 209. She hands one to Rick and one to Michonne before she escorts us to our dorm room. On our way across campus Rebecca shows us the Cafeteria where we eat meals and the separate Male and Female washrooms located on each floor of each wing. B-Wing's our new home. Rebecca bids us farewell and once inside and alone we begin to talk freely.

"They seem to have it all figured out…" Rick begins. "Electricity, Water, Food…_" _Rick, like all of us, struggles to take it all in.

"Seems an awful lot like Woodbury to me." Michonne grumbles looking unimpressed. I don't know how to personally feel about it. It's wonderful, don't get me wrong, food, shelter, safety in numbers, hot running water, electricity, weapons. It's so close to the old world and suddenly being thrown back into normal civilization seems overwhelming and strange. 4 long years of struggling to survive living amougst death and destructuion, living in Hell. Tommorow instead of fighting to survive Rick and Michonne will be working a 9-5 and Carl and I will be attending school. It feels unreal and I get a bitter taste in my mouth for it.

_We've lost so much. _

_We've been through so much. _

_We've worked so hard to survive and here's this colony of people who have it so disgustingly easy. I resent them already._

"Isn't this what we've been searching for?_" _Rick is saying and I'm interrupted from my train of thought. "Somewhere safe, somewhere that has it all together. You know damn well this is bigger than Woodbury. This is the future here. This is what we've all been lookin' for since this whole thang started_." _Rick argues passionately.

"It looks too good Rick. Too good to be _real_, we're better off taking our chances out there." Michonne replies before reaching for the door handle, "I get it, you need to do what's best for your family but I'm not promising I'll stay here. If this place smells anything like Woodbury I'm out." And with that Michonne leaves and I stand near the door about to follow her across the hall and go straight to bed. I feel suddenly exhausted and sleeps calling for me. Or perhaps I'm just longing to escape into another reality, somewhere familiar unlike this. _Run! Go back to what you're used to!_ I'm screaming inside, because somehow this world _here _is scarier than the one out _there_.

Rick asks us how we feel about this, Carl and I.

"I don't want to take classes, I want to work." Carl's quick to grumble. He looks thoroughly pissed off and I don't blame him, it feel a lot like quarantine at the prison all over again except much worse somehow.

"You're 15 Carl, you should be in school. Jodie too. The prison was different, we needed every spare hand we could get. It's not like that here. I know thangs are different here and it's unfamiliar but we'll all adjust, come to like it." Rick reassures us.

Both Grimes men look to me for my input. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go…" I say, not sure how to express in words exactly how I feel. I never did handled change well.

I leave and disappear into my dorm. Climbing into the top bunk I throw the covers over my head and let my mind drift off until sleep consumes me.


	7. Chapter 7: Crumbling, Falling Apart

Carl and Jodie sit in the administration office, side by side in two chairs facing a large mahogany desk. Behind the desk sits an older gentleman with round spectacles and hair as white as snow, his name is Paul Clemmons and his is the raspy voice they heard yesterday. He coughs into a handkerchief with the monogram _P.A.C_ in gold stitching. "I'll have your name and last grade level completed." He begins.

Carl and I look to each other, our eyes meet. I realize I am older than him so we won't have the same classes, unless I lie. "You first." I say.

"Carl Grimes, 5th grade." He tells the Dean. Paul scribbles something on a notepad before his cloudy gray eyes look up at me. "Jodie Harris, 5th grade." I match.

"You look older than that." He observes raising a fuzzy white brow.

"Got held back." I lie.

He doesn't interrogate me further, ripping a new sheet of paper from his notepad and scribbling for a few minutes before telling us, "You can each pick one elective course from this list." He hands over the list.

"Can we _elect_ not to take an elective class?" I counter earning a distasteful look from the elderly man. I hear Carl suppress a chuckle into his sleeve, turning it into a cough.

"No you cannot Miss Harris, an attitude like that will just suppress you further." He scolds, making a low-ball reference to me being 'held back'.

I glare folding my arms over my chest. "I guess Creative Writing." I scan over the list. "Me too." Carl decides. I guess I wasn't the only one who wanted us to stick together. We're mutually antisocial, clinging to each other and refusing to be alone amongst our peers.

We take our scribbled on parchment from Paul and head to our first class, _Mathematics 106_.

I glance over at Carl, "_Are you nervous_?" I ask, hoping I'm not the only one.

"_Yeah_." He admits. "But I'm glad I'm not doing this alone. Thanks for lying." He says.

"_How did you know_?" I inquire my tone surprised. I thought I kept my poker face straight, atleast Paul seemed to buy it.

"_You're not as hard to read as you think_…" Carl trails looking over at the door to our direct left. "This is it." He says reaching for the door handle. "_Wait_." I stop him grabbing his arm as he turns to meet my gaze. "We can go back to the dorms. We don't have to do this. I don't want to do this." I bite my lip nervously. "I'm doing this for my dad." Carl says. "Everything's going to be okay. Let's just get it over with." Carl gives me a reassuring smile. I let out a deep breath to calm my nerves, he rests his hand on the brass doorknob. "Ready?" He asks and I nod.

We enter the classroom and the instructor, Ivy Fitzgerald gives us each a textbook, a sheet of paper and a pen. She tells us to take a seat and we immediately seclude ourselves to the back row. I feel eyes burning inon my back as I walk down the isle. Once I'm seated I look around the classroom and realize Carl and I are the oldest ones except for two others, a dark skinned girl with an unfriendly but beautiful face and a boy with fiery red hair and a freckled nose. The girl scans us over, her hazel eyes aloof and disinterested. The red head casts us a small smile before turning back to his work and minding his own business.

We're given a series of math problems and within 15 minutes I feel my head thumping in pain. "Fuck if I know this." I hiss, massaging my temple and flicking my pen against the desk. "I can't remember any of this." Carl replies, staring blankly at his open textbook. I look around and realize nearly everyone else is quickly jotting down answers except the dark skinned girl, she appears to have given up entirely and is lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk. The red head is at least attempting to work out the problem but is doing so slowly as he keeps getting distracted by the fluffy snowflakes melting against the window outside.

"_I give up_." I quietly announce, setting down my pen. Carl has me beat, he stopped working 5 minutes ago and is now drawing tic-tac-to lines on his paper before he scoots it between us. He marks an X in the top left corner and I mark an O in the top right.

* * *

We stand in the cafeteria line with Rick and Michonne who are on their lunch break. I look at the mac n' cheese and hotdogs being served and feel my mouth water.

"How's school?" Rick asks his son. "_A waste of time how's work_?" Carl counters. "'They have us pickin' corn. Took us all morning and we still ain't halfway done-" Rick replies but is cut short by his name being called out, followed by Michonne's and Carl's. We all look around at a table in the centre of the room where two familiar faces are rushing toward us. "I've been lookin' for you'ns all day." Rick says. Maggie's eyes swell in tears as they embrace. Glenn hugs Michonne and pats Carl on the shoulder. "I thought I'd never see you guys again." Glenn confesses sadly. "How many more are here?" Michonne asks as more people emerge from the crowd to reunite with us.

"Is Beth with you?" Maggie asks hopefully. "No we thought she'd be with you." Rick frowns.

"I saw her and Daryl take off on the bike." Michonne informs her. "Is Tyrese here?" Michonne asks.

"Here" comes a low male voice from somewhere behind Glenn as he steps aside allowing the big, burly man through. Tyrese hugs Michonne and then shakes Ricks hand the two men giving each other toothy grins.

"Jodie" I glance away from the men and over at a familiar blonde haired girl, Lizzie. "You were supposed to take Judith to the bus." I instantly accuse. "You're the one who left her?" Carl adds angrily coming beside me. "The girls saved my life." Tyrese defends stepping behind Lizzie and her sister. "We got guns and we fought. It's what Carol would have wanted us to do." Lizze snaps. "You _abandoned_ her and she nearly died. If I hadn't seen her there, if I hadn't saved her life-" "_She'd be dead_!" Carl shouts his fingers brush against the pistol on his hip; I can see the rage igniting in his eyes and I know he wants so desperately to kill her. I grab his hand, "_Don't_." I firmly command. _'Kill and be killed'_ I recall the one rule.

"You stupid little bitch." Carl seethes. "You're dead." He growls, his hand trembling beneath mine. His fingers are itching to shoot and it takes all his will power not to.

"Judith is okay, that's all that matters. What Lizzie and Mika did may not have been _right_ but it saved my brothers life and for that I'm thankful." Sasha intervenes, literally stepping between Carl and Lizzie.

Two armed men approach us and I realize we're making a scene. "Is everything alright here?" The taller one asks. "Yes, everything's just fine." Tyrese replies. "Let's all sit down and eat." He says.

Carl leaves the cafeteria and both Rick and I move to follow him. "I'll talk to him." I quickly say. Rick hesitates before agreeing, "Maybe you'd get through to him."

I see Carl heading back towards B-wing and sprint to catch up to him. We walk side by side and I don't say a word until we've reached his dorm. He sits on the lower bunk bed and puts his face in his hands letting out deep, ragged breaths.

I slowly sit next to him and stay quiet, letting him talk when he's ready.

"I hate her." He says.

"I know."

"I almost shot her right there, in front of everybody."

"Judith is alive. If it was any different I wouldn't of stopped you." I tell him, my voice soft.

He finally untangles his hands from his head and meets my gaze as I speak,

"Remember when I went bezerk on those two biters and you asked me their names?" I change the subject and it seems to momentarily distract him. His crystal blue eyes seem to look straight through me and suddenly I almost regret what I'm about to say. I take a deep breath and fight the rage rising within me. Willing myself to continue.

"Their names were Ted and Mildred…they captured us, my mom and I, and kept us in their basement…" I feel my voice breaking and I stop, looking at my feet too ashamed now to look Carl in the eye as I continue to bravely tell him my dark past.

"He raped her…the bastard didn't just rape her he _mutilated_ her, he had whips and would do all this sadistic shit to her and make me watch it. He wanted to _humiliat_e her and he wanted me to see that he had all the control over her, over _us_. He wanted me to fear him and it worked. I was terrified he'd do the same to me but he didn't… instead his wife got a hold of me. She'd beat the shit out of me, she enjoyed seeing me in pain so I'd try so hard not to scream or cry out, I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Eventually she got bored with me, I wasn't fun to beat anymore so she came up with new ways to terrorize me. One day she locked me in a shed out back with a biter and nothing to defend myself with. I survived, I did what I had to and killed it with my bare hands. I wasn't going down that way. That's when she realized I was more of a threat than she had thought. She got scared of me then I think cause after that she left me alone for a while right around the time my mom and Ted started coughing. My mom's cough started first, I thought it was just the flu until it kept getting worse. Ted didn't care, he still kept mutilating her until one morning she didn't wake up…"

I stop unable to speak clearly through my sobs now. I let myself cry, burying my face into my hands as I relive the horrible memory. I feel Carl's arms wrap around me and he pulls me into him tightly. "I'm sorry." He whispers. The tears continue to fall and I fight to keep my voice steady. I fight to carry on,

"So she dies, and I freak out. She turns and I want to be the one to do it, to put her down but Mildred won't let me and we fight over the gun but Ted comes down. My mom takes a good hunk out of Mildred's arm and Ted shoots my mom and then his wife and then next thing I know he's making me carry the bodies outside. He burns my mom behind the shed and makes me stay up all night digging Mildred's grave. Then the next day he comes for me, I fight him off and he's strong but he's coughing up blood and sick as a dog and I know that he's going to die from the thing that took my mom. So I fight him harder than I've ever fought in my entire life and he doesn't get to take me. I won't let the fucker get a piece of me. I fight him off me and onto the floor. I get on top of him and my hands are wrapped tight around his throat and I'm squeezing like I did the biter in the shed. He's gagging and turning beat red, and then blue and he goes limp but I don't let go until I'm sure he's dead and then some for good measure. I take the hunting knife from his pocket. The one he used to threaten my mom and me with and I ran into the woods, as far away from all of that as I could get _and I'm still running Carl, every single day but I just can't get far enough away from it_."

Carl is holding me still except now we're lying down on the bed. My head is near his neck and I'm curled up into him and I like the warmth he brings a little more than I should but it feels too good to fight it_. It feels so fucking good_, I want time to pause here because for the first time I feel like I'm finally far enough away, _I can stop running now._

"I'm sorry." He repeats his voice soft and careful. "You didn't have to tell me." He whispers.

"I honestly needed to. I needed to get it off my chest." I sigh, wiping away the last tear as my breathing settles and we just lay together. I wonder which one of us will move first and I decide it won't be me.

"My mom use to tell me this saying, _holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die_." I say.

Carl allows my words sink in and for a long time we continue to just lay together in silence, our breathing matched. I think we both needed this, needed to feel this euphoric high that comes with being this close to someone. I realize I'm becoming attached to him, more than I should be and I'm fighting an inner battle with myself on whether I should stay or whether I should go. The key jiggling inside the doorknob makes my choice for me, and I quickly get up and leave just as Rick comes in.


	8. Chapter 8: To Love a Stranger

The sea breaks against the shoreline,

waves lapping up the sand and broken white shells.

Some lucky ones cling to the sand just long enough

and others, not so lucky get swallowed back by roaring current into the mouth of the sea.

The foam tickles my toes and warm, bubbly water buries my feet an inch in the sand.

My feet are my anchors grounding me into the mushy earth.

The grit gets between my toes and itches as it dries against my calves.

I collect a few seashells unique to me, holding a certain beauty that only my eye can behold;

they call out to me wishing to be a part of my collection.

I take them and wonder back to my towel spread out near but not under a large red umbrella.

I'm laying on my back and letting the Florida rays engulf me with their heat and radiance,

turning my pale skin pink and then later butterscotch brown.

This is my heaven, this is my most vivid and cherished memory, the memory I cling to in the darkest of times.

The last Harris family vacation to Clearwater Florida, year 2006.

Dad's getting an iced beer out of the cooler sitting crooked in the sand.

He has his Ray Ban's on, all black and reflecting the orb of light above us.

He appears to be gazing out into the horizon where the ocean meets the sky and it's dark blue against light.

From this view the world appears flat,

a long road of water before it drops off somewhere,

a waterfall leading into the nothingness of the vast universe around us.

Dad's skin is an even mocha brown,

his Italian heritage giving his skin the advantage over mine of tanning without burning first.

I inheritated most of my mother's French and Irish genes namely pale skin and green eyes.

I get my dark, wavy locks from my father along with his athleticism,

my mom being very clumsy, prone to trip going up the stairs...

Right now Mom is handing me a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato that she packed for us this morning.

Just in time as my stomach gives a hearty grumble.

She makes the best sandwiches packed with care and love and _always _neatly cut in two diagonally.

Her curly, blonde hair sticks in pieces to the greasy sun block on her cheeks.

The sun brings out the specks of brown bridging across her nose, freckles only seen in the summer.

As we each take a bite, she asks me where I want to go to next year, on the traditional Harris family vacation

and me, I say 'Here. I love it here!' and it's true, I do, hell let's move here and then I'll get married here and grow old here and die here.

I could spend eternity right here on this very beach.

But I never visit Clearwater again...

The following year it's exposed that my dad is having an affair with his secretary,

the young 20 something blonde bombshell who wore kitten heels to the office.

The divorce was finalized in '08 and in '09 I was spending weekends at my dads ritzy, loft apartment with his new girl toy, Amber Quinn.

I was a year shy of starting High School when the apocalypse happened.

It wasn't a weekend so I was with my mother at our old family home and that morning there was an emergency alert banner scrolling across our TV.

I remember our maid, Rita was requesting that weekend off, she had family up North that she needed to see desperately.

Her elderly parents weren't answering any of her phone calls for two days straight and we all heard the stories about the horrors up north...

The very first broadcasts were just a few junkies who had allegedly smoked bath salts and hallucinated terribly,

going on a killing spree attacking and biting three people in New York City.

Then there weren't just a few people on bath salts; there was an entire suspected cult of cannibals consuming raw human bodies in the streets;

they were arrested and detained.

Then the following broadcasts, a few days later and that morning, was about some medical mystery disease that spreads through direct contact with the blood stream,

if bitten or scratched by those infected with the disease you would then become infected yourself.

The CDC in Atlanta was working on a cure.

In the meantime officials urged us to stay inside and avoid public, high-traffic places where the infection rates were highest.

School was closed that Friday and I was looking forward to the luxury of a three-day weekend.

My mom still went into work, she figured they'd have this mess sorted out by Monday and everything would be fine.

_Boy, was she wrong,_

_ weren't we all **so** wrong_?

* * *

I finish reading my first Creative Writing assignment to the class and hand over the teacher my paper before walking back to my desk.

"I chose Jodie's paper because it was a perfect example of '_Show rather than Tell'_ in order to be a great writer we need to _show_ the reader. The way she describes her vacation is so well written, it focuses on the details and enables us to picture it perfectly as if we are there in Florida with her. Good work Miss Harris." Kate Walsh, our Creative Writing instructor compliments me.

"_Suck up_." Carl gently teases. "I'm surprised you even had the guts to stand up there and read." He says as we exit the classroom.

"Didn't have much of a choice did I?" I lightly snap.

"Great paper." An unfamiliar male voice interrupts us. We turn to see the redheaded boy, the one who smiled at us yesterday.

"Matt McStay." He introduces. "I already know your name-" He looks away from me and instead at Carl waiting for a reply. "Carl Grimes." Carl answers flatly.

"It's nice to meet you both." Matt's enthusiasms still going strong, unaffected by Carl's obvious disinterest.

"Cummon _McFly_ let's **go**." Barks a female tone. The dark skinned girl from our Math class appears beside him and the over-friendly Matt McStay quickly introduces the girl as Alyssa Clark, his hotheaded friend.

"I'm starving, _let's go_." She wines, ignoring Carl and I completely.

"_See you tomorrow_." Matt gives me a quick smile before giving in to the persistent girl. They head off to towards the cafeteria.

"Odd pair." I comment dryly once they're out of earshot. It seems she wears the pants in their friendship and he balances out her negative vibes with his overwhelmingly upbeat nature. The perfect example of '_opposites attract_.'

"He's too happy. No one should be like that…" Carl glares.

"What's wrong with a little optimism?" I ask lightly as we head back in the direction of our dorms.

"There's no room for it. Not anymore. He'd never make it out there." Carl answers shortly, referring to the zombie-infested world outside the Sanctuary's bubble of normalcy.

"Yeah he does seem a bit too sheltered…" I agree. "She on the other hand seems cold enough, almost reminds me of a teenage Michonne. Just give her a sword and a one-eyed governor to kill…"

We stop gossiping when we reach B-wing and divert the conversation to us instead. Carl shuffles through his pocket for the key reading _206_.

"You're paper was really good. Where did you learn to write like that?" Carl compliments as we enter the room his eyes look genuine so I can tell it's sincere and not just small talk.

"I dunno just practice I guess... I used to write short stories but never thought they were really any good," I shrug "Hell I can't even remember what I'd to write about… Seems so pointless now." I confess sadly. "What did you write your paper about?" I meant to ask him earlier, genuinely curious.

Carl sits propped against the wall and lets his wrist dangle over his knees; I sit Indian style on the bed facing him.

"Stupid stuff." He shrugs his hair falling into his sapphire eyes. "What were their names?" Carl changes the topic back to me. He does this often when we talk, it's as if he doesn't want to talk about his past so he distracts me with counter questions about mine. That or I'm just irresistibly interesting; I'll go with the first one.

"My parents?" I confirm as Carl nods. "Peter and Kate." I answer. "Your mom?" I slyly divert the topic back to him.

"Lori." He mutters looking down at his rough palms, the hands of a farmer.

A long silence passes between us and I can hear footsteps and chatter coming from the outside hallway as people migrate back to their dorms.

I fix my gaze back onto Carl who's still avoiding my eyes and instead busying himself with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. His facial features have a hard look about them and he appears to be deep in thought about something. Perhaps his mom and suddenly I wonder what's his life story and if he'll ever share it…

"_You okay_?" I finally ask, my voice soft. I tread carefully like a Hunter stalks a doe. He still doesn't meet my stare as he silently nods. I use this as an excuse to look at him a little longer, taking in his broad shoulders and how much more narrow his face looks since when we first met just a few months ago and the shaggy mop of dark brown hair hanging into his eyes. Carl's growing, _maturing_. I think they call this puberty and I wonder how different I, myself must look. I generally tend to avoid mirrors but when I do look I never_ really_ look too afraid of what I'll see staring back at me… Sometimes the emptyness of my own eyes scare me and I can't gaze into them for too long or else the abyss consumes me and I feel the madness setting in. I imagine what's behind those dark, ebony pupils. I think of my soul and I imagine the monster within me fighting against myslef and I haven't decided who wins yet. Sometimes the monster screams and sometimes he's silent. It's a constant struggle and I'm not sure I'll ever come out on top.

Then there's this boy sitting across from me, Carl Grimes and he's the closest thing to a friend I have had in years and you'd think that's enough but it isn't. There's a longing in my chest for something more but even I'm unsure of exactly what I desire, all I know is it can't be just this, there must be _something_ more. Love maybe? Can love still exist? Could I ever fall in love with him, Carl Grimes and could he ever fall in love with me? My heart aches for romance. A passion I'm not sure is even capable of surviving and just like that I let the thought drift away into the recesses of my mind. I get up to leave, Carl making it clear the conversation has ended. Maybe I shouldn't have brought up his mother but how am I supposed to know what topics to avoid when I hardly know anything about him?


End file.
